


Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches

by Jo (jmathieson)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bisexuality, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a safehouse at the end of an op, Clint takes a chance and Phil learns something new about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches

It had been one of those missions where they got out by the skin of their teeth, or rather by Clint's unfailing aim and Phil's deadly roundhouse kick. Still, it had been touch and go for a while, and they'd had to shoot some bad guys and then high-tail it out on foot because their transport back to the safehouse was compromised. 

Clint led them through back alleys and over rooftops, Phil following doggedly behind because he implicitly trusted Clint to find them a clear route. Then Clint made a leap from the roof of an apartment building to a parking structure several feet below, and Phil balked for an instant. 

"C'mon Coulson, you can do it easy. The safehouse is just around that corner." Clint pointed, and sure enough the relative safety of a secure apartment was less than a block away. Clint moved to the edge of the building. "I'll catch you. Promise."

Phil shook his head at the insanity of it all, but backed up and took a run at it and leapt. For one crazy instant he was sure he was going to plunge straight down like a cartoon coyote, but then the roof of the parking structure was coming up to meet him fast and his training took over. He executed a textbook paratrooper's landing which he turned into a forward roll and let the momentum carry him back up onto his feet.

"Nice move," Clint said, sounding genuinely impressed. "See, I told you you could do it." 

Phil gave him a tired grin and they both headed for the stairway.

At the apartment they let themselves in and split up. Phil checked stores, weapons, and communications, while Clint checked the security system on the door and windows, and checked for anyone lurking outside. It was a routine they'd developed from years of working together, and going through it now helped them both settle. 

His adrenalin was still running high, though, Phil realized as he stripped off his tac jacket and shirt in the bedroom of the small apartment. He wasn't looking forward to the resulting crash, but there was comfort food in the fridge, and he and Clint would collapse side-by-side on the sofa and watch bad TV while they stuffed their faces with carbohydrates.

Phil had a small smile on his face and his hands on his belt-buckle when Clint barged into the room, already stripped down to his boxer-briefs with his shaving kit dangling from one hand. Phil set his jaw, ready to engage in the next part of their post-mission safehouse ritual: arguing over who got the shower first.

But rather than launch his opening salvo, Clint stopped and stared. Phil glanced behind him, but Clint would have said something (or simply leapt at it) if there was any kind of danger. No, Clint was staring at him. Phil dropped his hands from his belt and spread them out by his sides in a 'what?' gesture. 

Clint took a step forward. Then stopped. Stared some more, his jaw working as if he was trying to swallow with a dry throat. Stepped forward again until he was right in front of Phil, looking straight into his eyes.

Phil had no idea what he was seeing in Clint's face. His expression was soft and sad? Or… wistful? Phil was trying to figure out what it meant when Clint surged forward and suddenly was kissing him. Clint was kissing him.

 _Clint_ was kissing him

Clint was _kissing_ him.

Clint was kissing _him_.

Clint's left arm wrapped around Phil's back, shaving kit dropping with a thud onto the bed behind him. His right hand gently cupped Phil's jaw, and his thumb stroked Phil's cheek with small, careful movements. Clint's lips were warm and surprisingly soft against his, kissing with firm pressure, again and again so that there could be no mistaking this for some sort of joke. Being held in Clint's strong arms, being touched so carefully, being kissed felt... good.

Without consciously deciding to, Phil kissed him back. And rather than stand there with his hands hanging uselessly by his sides, he put them on Clint's waist, feeling warm skin and taut muscle under his palms. Clint made a small noise and pressed closer, parting his lips just enough to caress Phil's upper lip between both of his. 

The rational part of Phil's brain knew that he should pull away. That they should talk about this. He needed to find out what was going on, what Clint wanted from him. But another part of him, the part that worked hard at ignoring how long it had been since he'd been touched... the part that enjoyed Clint's companionship more and more each day... the part that stole glances and insisted they were born of a purely aesthetic appreciation for Clint's athleticism… those parts refused to let him back off. Instead they urged him to part his lips and run his hands up the broad, muscular planes of Clint's back. 

The first touch of Clint's tongue to his part-open lips felt like an electric spark that jolted Phil back to full awareness of what he was doing. He was kissing Clint. Clint was kissing him. They were standing, mostly naked, in a safehouse bedroom and they were kissing and touching each other. 

This wasn't... Phil didn't... It felt good. It felt warm and safe and... good. Phil wanted more. How much more, he didn't know, and that scared him a little, but he opened his mouth and let Clint's tongue slip past his teeth. 

The rasp of stubble against his cheek was disorienting, but the feeling of holding Clint in his arms was all too familiar. The number of times they'd held, carried, lifted, clung to each other... Phil couldn't help but wonder if Clint had been wanting this all those times. Or was this just a whim, a fun way to burn off the yay-we-didn't-die energy? 

It felt like more than that. The way Clint's hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck, his fingers thrusting into the short hair there while Clint's tongue thrust deep into his mouth, as if he was trying to slake a long thirst. It felt like Clint wanted this. That was... heady and scary and confusing and flattering and... sexy.

Phil kissed back, tilting his head to the side and kneading Clint's shoulders with his hands. Clint moaned into his mouth and stepped forward, sliding one muscular thigh between Phil's legs to press their bodies together more closely. So close that Phil could feel the hard ridge of Clint's cock digging into his pelvis. 

That was... Clint was... Clint was hard. From kissing him. That was... Phil heard a noise and realized it was him, moaning quietly into the kiss. Clint pulled his mouth away.

"Phil. Oh god, Phil," he whispered, gasping as he rocked his hips forward.

The sounds Clint was making, his scent, familiar but now with an unmistakable tang of musk, his arms strong around Phil, holding him steady as he rocked forward again, rubbing himself against Phil's body… which was responding. Phil felt his cock grow heavy between his legs and start to press uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants. Phil's body knew what it wanted. It wanted the gorgeous, sensuous, sexy man who was kissing him and rubbing against him. 

Phil's thoughts, on the other hand, were trying to speak up, to make themselves heard over the hammering of his heart and the rushing of blood in his ears. 'You don't... You aren't... I could be... It feels good. So good.' Phil sought out Clint's mouth and claimed it in another deep kiss. So good.

Clint shifted again, this time to plant one knee on the bed behind them and push them over, breaking their fall with one strong arm and then straddling Phil's body on his hands and knees.

Phil looked up into Clint's face and waited for it to feel wrong. To feel trapped, or pressured. He didn't. He reached up and put his hands on Clint's chest, rubbing his palms over the broad pecs.

"Jesus, Phil." Clint dove for Phil's mouth again, thrusting his tongue in deep and rubbing against him again. Phil was fully hard now, his cock trapped but getting enough friction through his pants. He could get off like this. Doing this. With Clint. 

There was a bump and Clint hissed. His hard-on, still trapped in his underwear, had caught briefly on Phil's belt buckle.

"Sorry," Phil said - the first word he had spoken since Clint came into the bedroom - and reached to undo his belt. Clint propped himself up to give him room to shimmy out of his pants and kick them off.

Clint was staring into his eyes again. "Can we do this? I want you so much, Phil. Have for so long. Please say we can do this."

'I want you so much.' The words rang like a gong in Phil's head and he wanted to babble, 'Yes. Yes, anything. Yes,' but when he opened his mouth what came out was, "What? Do you want, I mean?" 

"Oh, god, Phil, anything. Anything you want." Clint voice was breathy in his ear and Clint's cock was hard against his. Phil could feel it pulsing though the thin fabric of his tactical briefs. "I'd love for you to fuck me," and as Phil stiffened a little at that, Clint continued on smoothly, "or I could suck you. I've wanted to do that forever. So many things I want with you, Phil." 

Phil's head was spinning. Clint sounded so serious, so sincere. Phil was growing more and more sure than Clint was talking about more than just sex. Which was... so far outside his frame of reference that his brain refused to even engage with the idea. 

"What things?" he asked, stalling for time to try to figure out what to do next.

"I'd love to fuck you sometime, if you're okay with bottoming, but it's totally fine if you're not." Clint cupped the side of Phil's face tenderly, mistaking his disorientation for refusal. "I can't wait to feel you inside me, Phil. I want that so bad. I'd love to ride you. Let you just lie here, like this, and fuck myself on your cock until I come." Clint was rubbing against him again as he spoke, the fabric between them growing damp from two leaking cocks. Phil's breath caught at the mental image of Clint above him, working himself up and down on Phil's cock. Muscles flexing, Clint's hand on his own length, stroking himself...

His expression must have shown something, because Clint said, "You like that idea? You want to see me fuck myself on your cock, Phil?"

"Yes," Phil said quickly before he could over-think it, and Clint kissed him again, rough and deep, before pulling away and flopping over on his back to slip out of his briefs. Phil took one look at Clint's hard cock springing loose from its confines, and stripped off his own underwear without hesitation. 

Clint rolled back over, his face near Phil's groin. He must have looked a little unsure, because Clint asked, "Can I, please? I just want to taste you for a bit."

"Yes," Phil said, and his voice felt thick in his throat. 

Clint's mouth on his cock was heaven. Hot and wet and tight; his tongue working the underside of the glans in just the right spot.

"Oh, fuck. Clint. Fuck." 

Clint popped off with a filthy slurp. "I've been waiting years to hear you moan my name like that Coulson," he said with a wicked grin.

"Well then you should have kissed me sooner." Phil was no longer in control of what was coming out of his mouth. He wanted Clint's mouth back on his cock. He wanted to kiss Clint and never stop. He wanted to put his hands everywhere. He wanted... Oh, god, he wanted to bury himself in Clint's ass. 

"Gonna do this now, it's easier that way," Clint said, tearing open a condom that he’d fished out of his shaving kit and rolling it onto Phil's hard length. The feel of Clint's sure strong fingers on him made his cock twitch, and Clint smiled. "I just need a couple of minutes here, first. It's been a while." 

Phil heard a click and saw Clint squeezing lube onto his fingers, then reaching around behind himself. He swallowed thickly. 

"You like that? Knowing that I'm getting ready to take your cock up my ass? Next time you can do it, but it's faster this way, and right now I'm pretty impatient." Clint shuffled up the bed and planted his free hand near Phil's head, then leaned down to kiss him. Phil's hands went to Clint's chest again, the tips of his fingers brushing across Clint's small pert nipples. Clint moaned.

"Yeah, god yeah, Phil, that's just what I need." The hitch in his voice and the way his arm was moving let Phil picture Clint's fingers probing his ass. Phil clenched his own muscles, wondering what it would feel like to have those long strong fingers touching him like that. Clint would be so gentle, so careful, Phil knew. 

He brushed his fingertips back and forth across Clint's nipples, then swallowed again and cleared his throat to ask, "What, ah... how do you like, ah, this?"

"What you're doing is great. You can also pinch a little, that's good too. Don't worry about going too hard, I like it a little rough. I, uh, I hope that's not a turn-off for you?" Phil saw Clint's ears redden a little.

"No," he said, his voice still thick. An image sprang to mind of Clint, ass in the air, bent over a bench or spread-eagled on the bed, and Phil pounding into him, as hard as he could, taking... taking... He pinched Clint's nipples between his thumb and forefingers and got a gasp and a moan and a grin. 

"Not a turn-off," he said. 'Apparently,' he thought. And then, from nowhere, 'You're lying to him. He's going to be hurt. You're going to get hurt.' 

Phil rubbed his thumbs back and forth over Clint's reddened nubs, listening to him gasp and moan, watching him writhe on his own fingers in his ass, preparing himself. Preparing himself to ride Phil's cock.

'You're having sex with him because you want to,’ Phil told himself. 'Because you're turned on. Because he turns you on. None of that is a lie. How good this feels isn't a lie.' But Phil wasn't entirely convincing himself. He was about to say something when Clint moved, swinging a leg over Phil's hips and settling his weight on his knees. 

"Okay?" Clint asked, and Phil knew he should say, 'No, wait,' but he didn't. Instead he nodded.

Clint grasped his cock in a slick hand and held it steady as he lowered himself. Phil forced his eyes to stay open, wanting to see all of this, every second. Every second of Clint's face as it softened, his eyes half-lidded, a small smile on his lips. He was so beautiful. 

But the slick tightness around his cock was overwhelming, and as Clint slid down the last inch with a sigh, Phil had to close his eyes for a moment and drag in a deep breath of air.

"You okay?" Clint asked, not moving, just waiting. Phil opened his eyes.

"Fine," Phil said, which was a lie. He wasn't fine. He was stretched out so thin he thought he would snap. Every nerve ending was on fire. He wanted to touch, he wanted to fuck, he wanted Clint to kiss him again. He wanted Clint to fuck him. He wanted to stroke Clint's cock.

"God you're gorgeous," Clint said, and Phil let out a small laugh.

"I was just thinking the same about you."

"Me? I'm nothing special."

"You're everything special, Clint Barton," Phil said, looking up at him. 

Clint looked embarrassed again. "I'm gonna move now, okay?"

"Go for it," Phil said, as if Clint had just proposed a daring plan to save their asses on an op. That earned him a brilliant smile, and Phil's next thought was, 'God, I love you so much.' That made his breath catch, and he let it out with a moan as Clint flexed his thighs to lift himself up a few inches, then sink slowly back down.

"Oh, god, Clint. That's... that's..." Phil couldn't think of a word to describe how utterly amazing it felt.

"Good?" Clint asked, still smiling, and rising once more, pausing for a moment at the apex before sinking slowly back down again.

"Good,” Phil agreed. "So very, very good."

"I want it to be good for you, Phil. I want to make you feel so good." Clint started to move a little faster, pumping himself up and down on Phil's cock, muscles straining, chest heaving. He looked like a marble statue of a Greek god come to life, all curves and planes, smooth skin and taut muscle, every bump and bulge the result of hours of training, of practice, of effort. 

Phil had always thought Clint was attractive, but how could he have not realized how beautiful the man was until now? He needed... he needed to do something, to say something to let Clint know how much this meant to him, how wonderful it was, how perfect. But there were no coherent thoughts in his head, no sentences, just need and want.

"So good, Clint. Fuck that's so good."

"Tell me when you're getting close. I want to make you come. I want to see," Clint said, working himself faster, almost frantically on Phil's cock.

"Yes. You too. Want... Can I touch you?"

"Yes. God, yes, Phil. Touch me. Make me come. Make me come on your cock, Phil."

It took the last shred of control to put his hands carefully on Clint's straining thighs and slide them slowly up to his groin. He wrapped one hand around Clint's hard, leaking cock and the other gripped Clint's hip.

"That okay?" he gasped out.

"Perfect. You close, Phil? I'm so close. You feel so good inside me Phil, I'm so close."

"Yeah," was the most coherent thing Phil could manage as he ran his hand down Clint's cock, exploring its contours. Clint was slimmer and a little longer than he was, and his cock felt strange in Phil's hand. Strange, but exciting. He squeezed a little at the head, the way he liked it, and Clint moaned above him.

"Please, Phil. Please make me come." Hearing Clint beg did something to Phil. Something deep inside him unfurled, releasing a surge of power that he hadn't known was there. 'I love him. And I could fall in love with him.' Phil realized, and his hips rose to meet Clint's next stroke. 

"Oh, god. Yes. Phil. Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me, Phil please." Phil's hips bucked off the bed again and again. His hand tightened on Clint's cock, he needed to do this, needed to see, to feel, to know... 

Clint wailed as he started to come, spurting thickly into Phil's hand and clenching tight around him.

"Yes," Phil roared and thrust up into him again with his own release. "Yes."

"Yeah," Clint agreed, collapsing on top of him.

Phil put his arms around him and held on tight. He felt like he was flying apart. He loved Clint Barton. He had just had sex with Clint Barton. Those two facts were bouncing around his skull, pinging off each other like pinballs scoring triple, lighting everything up. 

Clint snuggled down and tucked his face into the crook of Phil's neck. "Tell me when I get too heavy," he mumbled.

Phil didn't have a whole lot of relationship experience, but he had enough to know that snuggling afterwards was a sign that the other person was invested for more than scratching an itch. Phil needed to know just how invested Clint was, and he needed to know soon, before he started spinning out of orbit. He also needed to be honest with Clint. Now.

Except first...

Phil turned his head. "Can I kiss you again?"

Clint smiled up at him. " 'Course." Phil held him and kissed him. The stubble scratched more now, but Phil ignored that and concentrated on the softness of Clint's lips and the sweetness of his mouth. When he pulled back, Clint was looking into his eyes.

"Time for me to move, huh? No problem." Clint didn't give Phil the chance to object, he just heaved himself up and over and off, flinging one arm out to the bedside table and snagging the box of tissues. 

"Thank god for well-stocked safehouses, huh?" he said as he helped himself to a few, then handed the box to Phil. 

Phil dealt with the condom and dropped the wad of tissues on the floor by the bed. He'd clean up later, now there was... He rolled onto his side facing Clint. 

"Clint," he said, and paused, waiting while Clint looked over.

"This is the talking about it afterwards part, isn't it?"

"Yes. Can I go first?"

"Hell, yeah."

Phil smiled, and reached out, and stroked Clint's cheek. "Thank you," he said, "so much."

"Uh, you're welcome? I had fun too, in case you didn't notice."

"I noticed. I just wanted you to know how much that meant to me. It was special and perfect." Phil cleared his throat. "Just like a first time should be."

"First time what? Topping from the bottom? Really?" Clint's eyebrows disappeared up into his hairline.

"Ah, no. That was..." Phil could feel his face turning red, but he soldiered on, this was important. "That was my first time having sex with a man." At Clint's shocked, incredulous look, he continued. "My, ah, same-sex experience before now was limited to swapping handjobs and a single blowjob, receiving that is… Uh, while I was in the army."

"Oh Christ." Clint rolled onto his back and put his arm across his eyes. "Oh Christ, Phil I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I just assumed, when you didn't slug me when I kissed you, that you were okay with... everything."

"I was. I am. I liked you kissing me. I liked everything we did. A lot." 

"Jesus. I mean I knew you weren't gay, but I assumed... Christ Phil I'm so sorry."

"Will you please stop apologizing? And no, I'm not gay, but it seems pretty obvious that I'm bisexual."

"Did you know that?"

"What?"

"Did you know, before tonight, that you were bi? Or was I just on your list?" Clint had rolled over again and was looking at him with guarded, troubled eyes.

"List? What list?"

"List of guys you'd fuck. You know, 'I'm not gay, but if Tyler Hoechlin stripped down in front of me, I wouldn't say no.'"

"Tyler who? Is this an internet thing?" Phil felt the conversation slipping away from him and tried to wrestle it back to the point. "Clint, I care about you. A lot."

Clint's face softened.

"What we did tonight was very special for me. Because it was you. I... I need to know if you want... if you feel..." Phil tried, but gave up. After the emotional whirlwind of the last hour, there was nothing left. The calm, self-assured Phil Coulson had left the building, and what was left was a quivering mass of feelings and insecurities.

"I care about you, too, Phil. A lot. But..."

"But what?"

"That was really your first time? With a guy?"

"It really was."

"God, I feel like I took advantage of you. Like I didn't give you a chance to say 'no' or at least 'can we slow down?' I mean, Jesus, Phil, I just - "

Phil sensed where this was going and leaned in to kiss him. Hard.

"Nothing happened that I didn't want, Clint. I swear. I could have stopped you. I would have stopped you, if I needed to. I didn't need to. I didn't want to. I loved it, Clint. All of it. Every single second."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I, ah, I'd like to do it again. Sometime. And, ah, other... things." Phil thought he'd get a grin and a leer from Clint, but his worried expression didn't budge. 

"Phil, I've wanted this for so long. I just never thought you'd want it too. I mean, besides the whole being mostly straight thing." Clint smiled a small, nervous smile.

"I thought we just agreed that enjoying sex with you meant I was at least a bit bisexual,” Phil smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Great. I kiss you and suddenly you're a bit bisexual and then I jump you." Clint had rolled onto his back again and was staring up at the ceiling.

"It's funny, you'd think I'd be the one who was freaked out," Phil said conversationally.

"Yeah. Why aren't you?"

"I don't know. I guess I always kind of knew I was attracted to you? I like looking at you. I like spending time with you. And I care about you, so when you kissed me and I liked that too, I just, ah, went with it." 

Clint didn't seem to have a response to that, he just kept staring up at the ceiling.

"Clint?" Phil sounded worried even to his own ears, and it was enough to make Clint turn his head and look at him, at least. "There's one thing I need to ask you."

"Yeah?" 

"You said this was something you've wanted for a long time. Ah, is this, ah, all you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"The, ah, sex. Is that all you want, because if it is I'm not sure..."

"Phil, no. God, no. That's not all I want from you. I care about you so much.” Clint was reaching for him and pulling Phil into his arms and kissing the side of his face. It felt so good to have Clint's arms wrapped around him again, safe and steady and reassuring.

"I mean I know I've got a bit of a reputation, but most of it's just talk, I swear. I want more than sex with you, Phil. So much more." Clint's words were spoken softly into his ear, but now he pulled back enough to look into Phil's eyes again. 

"I, uh, I should probably tell you that I'm kind of in love with you. Have been forever, it feels like. I hope that doesn't freak you out."

Phil leaned in and kissed him again, once, softly. "I'm not freaked out. The opposite, in fact. I, ah, was worried because I seem to be, ah, falling for you, and it would have been hard if you didn't feel the same way. That's why I needed to know."

"Look, I know there's probably a whole bunch of other stuff we need to talk about, and this isn't me trying to get out of any of that, I swear. But I seriously need either a nap or a snack or both, because the adrenalin from the op and the sex are wearing off fast, and you know how pissy I get."

"Do I ever." Phil rolled his eyes 

"Hey, you don't have to be like that." Clint tried to pout, but he was grinning too much.

"I'll go put some coffee on and make us something to eat. You go shower."

"Yes boss," Clint said, then his face fell. "That's not gonna be a problem is it? At work, I mean. Us working together." 

"Why, do you think you're going to have a problem taking orders from me if we're in a relationship?" And a part of Phil was both thrilled and scared to be using the 'R' word.

"No, fuck no. Like I said, I've been in love with you for ages. Nothing's gonna change between us in the field, you trust me on that, don't you?"

"Of course I do. You'll still be just as much of a pain in the ass as always." Phil was making light, but it was clear that Clint was still worried.

"I just mean, aren't there rules against, uh, this kind of thing?"

"This isn't the army, Clint. SHIELD trusts its people to behave like intelligent, mature adults in the conduct of their personal lives as well as their professional lives. If it does become a problem, one of will have to be reassigned."

"I don't want that."

"Neither do I. It'll be okay. So long as nothing changes in the field, it'll be fine."

Clint didn't look convinced, but he nodded. 

"And, ah, this," Phil said, waving a hand back and forth between their naked bodies, "can't happen again, either."

"What?" Clint's voice went so high it almost squeaked.

"In a safehouse on an active op, I mean," Phil explained quickly.

"But the op's over."

"Probably. But still."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I guess you're right. It's not a good idea to be... distracted when the bad guys are still out there." Clint sounded resigned.

"Exactly. Look, you were absolutely right when you said the rest of this discussion should wait until we've eaten and rested. So you shower, I'll make food and coffee, and we'll talk more after the op's finished, okay?"

"Yeah." Clint heaved himself off the bed with a sigh and grabbed his shaving kit off the floor where it had ended up. Phil dug through the dresser for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He was going to shower as well, after Clint, but he didn't want to stand naked in the apartment kitchen in the meantime.

"Um, can I, just..." Phil turned around with clothes in his hand to find Clint standing behind him, looking concerned.

"What?" 

"This." Clint grabbed him and kissed him. Long and hard and with as much passion as earlier. Phil let his mouth be plundered for a minute and then kissed back, just as fiercely. 

When they finally broke apart, Phil asked, "What was that about?"

"Just in case, you know, later you..."

"I'm not going to change my mind, Clint."

"Yeah. Okay." He turned and headed for the bathroom. "I'll have a baloney sandwich, extra mustard, if there isn't any peanut butter and jelly."

"There's always peanut butter and jelly," Phil said with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, I know. Why is that?"

"Because it's your favorite," Phil said.

"I love you too." Clint said, and closed the bathroom door.

Phil hummed softly to himself as he got dressed then headed into the kitchen to make their sandwiches.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [The Exclamation](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheExclamation) for beta-reading.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Jo Mathieson](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


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